


They Call Him Love

by whiteblankpage



Category: Glee
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-09 01:08:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4328025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiteblankpage/pseuds/whiteblankpage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Sam’s a little slow on the uptake when it comes to feelings but maybe Kurt isn’t too far gone to reach just yet.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	They Call Him Love

Sam and Kurt are a tangled ball of missed opportunities. A beat shy of on rhythm, a step behind on point, three hours too early and one minute too late.

They’re the end result when the red string is so tangled, everyone’s too scared to even try, too confused to make it all make sense. Now Kurt’s living in New York, forgetting his Lima roots and moving on from one boy with another man and Sam’s still  _here_ ; still living in his house, in his hometown, and sometimes when his teacher tells him to make art about the things he loves the most, he recreates Kurt at his finest. 

It takes Sam a while to get there- to make the connection. He falls in love with the goodness he sees in people, falls in and out of love so many times he’s a little numb to the feeling. Quinn and the steel in her spine, Mercedes and the fire in her soul, Brittany and the dreams in her head. In between them all, Sam misses the way Kurt sneaks in and settles down in his bones and forgets to learn how to let him go.

In that chaotic way everyone he knows lives in their lives, Sam makes friends with Blaine, watches the way he watches Sam speak and lets him down easy. He thinks about the fact that he’s spent hours creating Kurt’s image from memory and Blaine only ever asks if Sam has feelings for  _him_. 

Brittany’s running her fingers through his hair after a spectacular loss at Regionals when she says, “you’re my best guy friend.”

“But that’s all I am?” Sam guesses, biting his lip tiredly. He’s sick of falling out of love.

Brittany kisses his cheek, leans her head on his shoulder and murmurs, “Friends feel nice. I wish I had more.”

His art teacher gets him a sleek box of pencils, in shades and colours that make Sam’s head spin. 

“I’ve got a theory,” he tells Sam, arms crossed. “If I’m right, get ready to forget that SAT test.”

He gives Sam assignments, like Glee Club but vague and nudging and the smile on his face is sly.  _Show me your home._  Sam blocks out twelve chairs and a piano. _Show me green._  Sam draws the way Santana’s eyes burned into him on that stage.  _Show me love._  He fills a sketchbook with cheekbones flushed pink, with high hair and kind hands and a worn jacket.

Rachel comes back to Lima alone one week in April, looks up at Finn with wide eyes and everyone knows they’re heading down that same, tired road neither of them remembers. He’s in the kitchen, drying dishes as Carole washes, when he hears Blaine ask about Kurt.

The chatter goes quiet and heavy, as Rachel mentions the new man in Kurt’s life, sympathetic but firm. Kurt’s moved on, he’s never been the type to wait on what he doesn’t need. 

Sam nearly shatters the glass in his hand, wondering if he was ever something Kurt decided not to wait on.

Later that night, as the rest of their friends make too much noise shuffling out the door, Rachel pulls Blaine aside, grasps one of his hands in both of hers and shakes her bangs from her eyes. 

“It’s been months and he’s so happy,” she says. “The best gift you could ever give to him would be to let him go. Don’t ruin it.”

“But what about me? I can’t just-”

“You can and you will, Blaine Warbler,” Rachel says, her voice tremendous. She’s always been something to be reckoned with and Blaine could never wear Rachel down when it comes to Kurt- not after a year away from Lima. “You’ll have to.”

Sam still claps Blaine on the shoulder before he goes, keeping their broken-hearted solidarity a secret. There’s no reason to make anyone feel any worse about it. 

It’s barely a week later when the first acceptance letter shows up at the Hummel residence for Sam Evans. 

“I didn’t apply anywhere,” he swears, fingers numb as Burt hands him the neat stack of heavy envelopes. Carole’s already dialing his parents- even Finn looks excited. 

California. Chicago. Rhode Island. Pittsburgh.  _New York._

There’s pages of information and words like scholarship and financial aid and Sam has to shake his head to take it all in. 

His mom’s crying on the phone when he takes it. “I didn’t apply- I promise.”

“Don’t ever promise me that,” she says, sniffling. “Don’t- we’re so proud of you, Sammy.”

He misses them like mad, feels that guilty pit rolling in his belly at the thought of going on without them again but underneath all that, Sam’s a little proud of himself too.

His art teacher grins at the stack of letters when he brings them in, smug and pleased but a little wistful as he reads the options out. “Don’t let it go to waste, and don’t ever let them tell you you’re not good enough.”

For the first time, Sam’s eye catches sight of the certificate from a school in Virginia, hung without decoration on the back wall of the class.

He leaves without word, a burning, itching need to paint  _regret_  in his fingertips.

 Sam meets Adam for the first time in May. Kurt’s back in town for his birthday, back in town for just the weekend and Burt’s bursting with pride and love and a manic, frantic kind of happiness. It’ll be Sunday night before either of them can blink- Kurt will be back in the grip of his life in New York and there’ll always be just short of enough time to make the trip for Burt. 

 Kurt’s still wrapped in Burt’s arms, eyes closed as they sway when Sam comes down the stairs. He looks too real after months of trying to catch that kind of light on paper, with the faulty mediums of ink and lead and dried pasta. It makes his pulse kick up, the breath catch in his throat.

A stranger comes through the front door, smiling wide at nothing in particular. He’s got a suitcase in his hand and it barely hits the floor before he’s extending that hand to Sam eagerly. 

“Hello, I’m Adam.”

The smile’s wide, infectious and Sam grins back, even when that heavy feeling of expected heartache creeps along his ribs, squeezing them hard. 

The horrible thing about it all is that Adam’s a  _good guy_. They sit together at the dining room table for hours, trading stories, getting to know the man Kurt’s put before them. He’s kind and easy-going and throws his arm around the back of Kurt’s chair and leaves it there, without a thought. 

When Kurt starts to laugh, head thrown back to rest against Adam’s shoulder, at the memory of a snowy day with cookies and Kurt’s love of old time romance, Sam has to hide in the bathroom to catch his breath. He pinches the folds of skin at his sides and bites his lips until they sting because Adam’s like looking into a mirror that only shows the better parts of you.

Even Finn’s started looking between the two of them, brows narrowed as he pieces together the one thing Sam doesn’t want to face.

There’s a knock at the door.

“Sam? Are you okay? Carole sent me to check on you.”

Kurt steps back as he wrenches open the door, a smile still lingering on his lips. “You’ve been quiet all night. Are you sick?”

Sam shrugs. “Just not much to say, I guess.”

The smile strains. “Dad mentioned art school was a possibility? I didn’t even know you could draw.”

“Words are hard,” Sam says, pulling at the hem of his t-shirt. “Sometimes it’s just easier for me to draw a picture.”

Kurt relaxes in the span of a breath, reaching out to touch Sam’s arm. “You’ll have to show me some day. Make me a Sam Evans original to put on my wall before you become too famous to remember me.”

Sam covers his hand with his own, fights the urge to take it and link their fingers together. They’s still always just out of sync. 

“If the time is right and I make my way to New York City,” Sam promises, stepping close in the middle of the hallway. “I have a picture I want you to see.”

Kurt beams at him and it feels like they’re starting to fall into place. 

—

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted: march2013


End file.
